


for when you‘re gone

by arthursmorgan



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Pining, charles buries arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 07:11:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17638175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arthursmorgan/pseuds/arthursmorgan
Summary: Finding Arthurs body, it was - it was one of the hardest things Charles has ever had to endure. Seeing the man that used to be filled to the brim with life and love now resting, unmoving; it was unsettling.





	for when you‘re gone

Finding Arthurs body, it was - it was one of the hardest things Charles has ever had to endure. Seeing the man that used to be filled to the brim with life and love now resting, unmoving; it was unsettling. It sent a wave of nausea down to Charles‘ belly, making him feel like he had to throw up as he approached Arthur, or what was left of Arthur. For his soul was gone and his soul had been the part that made him shine.

Charles kneeled down beside the mans body, and seeing his chest lay flat, the slow rising and falling - the indicator for life, the indicator for Arthur to still be there - being absent; it hurt. It hurt more than losing his father did, it hurt more than seeing Dutch spiral down into insanity, hurt more than seeing the gang he had taken to call his family fall apart.

He grabbed Arthurs face in his hands, rubbing his thumbs against the stubble there, and he pressed a kiss onto his cold forehead, whispering „You get to rest now, Arthur.“ He stood up afterwards, and, willing the tears forming back down, he grabbed the heavy body and heaved it over his shoulder, resisting a sob. He tried ignoring the fact that this was the dead weight of somebody he used to love; still loved, as he staggered down the steep mountain.

When he met back with Taima - who had been grazing at the bottom of the mountain, waiting patiently for him - he strapped Arthur onto her back, still mindful of how he placed him, as if he was making sure not to hurt him. Mounting Taima, knowing that Arthur was there with him - but not really - twisted at his heart and sent thunders running through his mind, piercing his brain like knives. His insides churned when he started riding, no particular destination in mind, he just rode. But somehow, somehow he felt he was being pulled towards somewhere, he didn‘t know how or where, he simply followed the slight tug in his chest.

Because, even if he knew it was impossible, if Arthurs spirit was guiding him, he would follow the path. He would always follow where Arthur lead him and that wouldn‘t cease just because Arthurs life did.

Having reached a mountain site, he dismounted Taima again, patting her on her neck as she rubbed her snout against his face. Charles felt as though she knew of the storm raging inside of him, of his heart clenching so much it threatened to fall into itself and into nothingness.

Charles started burying, and he didn‘t stop until it was nightfall and he couldn‘t see anymore. If it was for the lack of light or if it was for the tears making his sight blurry, he didn‘t know. All he knew was that the hole he had dug was deep enough for Arthurs body, and so he went to grab it.

He placed Arthur next to his grave, looking at his face for one last time, trying to memorize every one of his features; trying to prevent himself from forgetting the face of the man he loved.

Once again, he leaned down, and kissed Arthurs forehead gently before he picked him up and carefully lifted him into the deep hole in the ground.

Letting the dirt fall over Arthurs body turned out to be one of the hardest tasks Charles ever had to complete. Wolves were howling nearby, and Taima whinnyied nervously, and it just made the ache in Charles‘ chest deepen. When the dirt reached Arthurs face, beginning to obscure him, beginning to let Arthur be forgotten, his history being wiped, a tear finally left Charles‘ eyes and dropped onto the dirt covering Arthurs chest, seeping through it and making its way down to Arthurs still heart.

Trying to distract himself, he thought back on the good times him and Arthur used to have. How they used to go hunt together and how they always had each others backs. How much Charles loved him and how he never got to tell Arthur.

How he always saw Arthur stealing glances at him, trying to hide it as soon as he saw Charles looking. How Charles always felt as though Arthur loved him back. How he was still too afraid to tell him, and Arthur seemed to be as well.

When Arthurs body was fully covered up, Charles wiped his face and turned around to look for some wood to prepare a plaque in Arthurs memory. He didn‘t care that it was dark, that he didn‘t see most of what was in front of him; he only cared for getting this done, for finally giving Arthur a resting place and for his heart to stop yearning for somebody so incredibly close but yet so far away.

He found some wood and processed it until he deemed it worthy of holding onto Arthurs memory. Charles unsheathed his knife and started carving.

_Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness._

And how blessed Arthur had been, and how blessed he would be now, for Charles knew that God would be kind to Arthurs soul. For Arthur had been a good man, and a man of honor and kindness.

And Charles had loved him for that; will never stop loving him.

And as Arthur Morgans name started to fade away, along with his story, Charles never forgot him. Never forgot about the man with a heart so pure but with a mind so dark is plagued him into believing otherwise. Never forgot the blue eyes looking into his own with such a fondness, and never forgot the small smile Arthur would send his way every so often.

And, many years later, Arthur Morgan would cease to be alone, for Charles body, along with his name, have joined him up on that mountain, overlooking the world and greeting the sun every morning. And Arthur and Charles would never be alone again.

**Author's Note:**

> hhowdy i wrote this at 1am and made myself sad *yeehaws out of here*


End file.
